Wednesday, 23 July 2014

I need a screw, or, my screw is loose. Both, really.

"I need a screw."  That is what I rather loudly told my 60 year old boss this morning.  He giggled like a school girl and made me repeat the request louder.  I had been thinking about telling him I needed a good screw.  Or that my screw was loose.  My electric pruners have crapped out on me.  The little screw loosens and tightens at will, causing me to adjust it every five minutes, and in doing so, I have stripped it.  So I threw my toys out of the cot yesterday and decided to go manual.  And to start telling both bosses repeatedly, through text messages, phone calls, surprise visits on their doorsteps, messages to their wives, whatever, that "I need a screw."  Pruning lasts close to 5 months.  We are not half way through, and I don't have the hand strength to prune manually for the rest of it.  So far a day and a half without the electrics, my hands and arms aren't really feeling too bad.  But soon  my arms will go dead at night (they will fall asleep and wake me up, basically) and I will be unable to pick up a coffee cup for about the first 20 minutes of my day.  Hopefully, I will soon have a screw.  In both ways really, because today is CD5 and Aunt Flo is in retreat and will hopefully be gone by tomorrow night.

I saw the doc today, and got not only a referral to get my potentially endo-clad uterus and other parts checked out by a gyno, but got a payload of pain pills.  Voltaren, Codeine, and Panadol.  I take 2 a day of the first and supplement as needed with the other two when Aunt Flo is being particularly heinous.  The ibuprofen I usually take don't work unless I take a lot.  As in take 3, when the pain is still there an hour later, take another, and then repeat again if the pain doesn't go away, and if it does, wait 4 hours from the first does and take 2 more.  Not so good for my kidneys I guess. 

The doc was nice and asked how last month went, so I told her.  With emphasis on the pain.  The whole thing was a bit awkward with the student doctor, a young Indian man, sitting there nodding rather enthusiastically.  Poor guy.  I tried not to get too descriptive.  But mostly I was embarrassed and off my game, hence the tears.  Dammit.  I would like to hope that this is the last time that happens to me in an exam room.  Probably won't be. 

I started back with my running today after a 2 week hiatus.  5 minute walk with a 22 minute jog.  The plan is to jog every day for at least 20 minutes at first, and increase it as I can.  Longer jogs on the weekend, or maybe hikes into the mountains (which the Moose has been pushing for...he wants to get up into the snow!).  And no more beers, snacky processed naughty foods, flavoured coffee sachets, and I will cut back on bread.  10 kilos in 3 months is the goal...but more would be better.  I need to get my BMI under 32. 

On the bright side, I now have a stack of pain pills which could come in handy if I don't get that screw in my electric pruners replaced.

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